


Down the Forest Path

by littlemaple



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Child Abandonment, Hansel and Gretel - Freeform, M/M, To be honest, brief mention/hint of cannibalism (it’s just non-relevant subtext, but giving a heads up to be safe), i mean in the fairy tale the witch was literally going to eat them so, it is happy but welp, mention of murder, twisted ending
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-28
Updated: 2018-02-28
Packaged: 2019-03-25 03:54:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,730
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13825938
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/littlemaple/pseuds/littlemaple
Summary: Alone in the forest, Arthur is hopeless. And as much as he wants to wait for his brother to come back for him, Arthur is afraid it will not happen. So when a boy in a similar situation offers him company, he takes it. Written for the usukustwiceperyear event. Based on Hansel and Gretel.





	Down the Forest Path

**Author's Note:**

> Hello everyone! This was my entry for the usukustwiceperyear @ tumblr event. There's lots of amazing works there, so go check them out too! My story was based on the Hansel and Gretel fairy tale. I changed a lot of stuff, though. First, they are not brothers. Second... I won't spoil it. :P
> 
> Please leave a review letting me know what you think of this! It'd make me super happy! Have a great day.

Deep down, Arthur knew his brother was going to leave him in the forest. He just did not want to believe it. He loved his brother, his whole family, even though they fought a lot and yelled a lot and made him cry and feel angry a lot. He held tight to Scott’s hand, afraid his brother would run off, afraid of the darkness, of the trees, of how angry he was about the whole thing, and even of the soft sounds of nature.

“Why did you take me to hunt with you?” Arthur asked yet again. There was bitterness in his voice he wasn’t capable of hiding. He always did his best and it angered him to know that, in the end, it was not enough. And it also scared him.

Scott gulped, like he was scared, too.

“I told you, it’s… there’s hardly any food anymore in the forest. So just stay quiet.” He demanded, so Arthur did stay quiet, at least for the next half hour or so.

“I’m tired,” the child whimpered. His feet ached with every step, and he was seriously thirsty. And hungry, but he had learned not to complain about hunger, because it only upset his family, and that upset him as well, and it all lead to yelling and frustration and it made Arthur’s chest ache with something he didn’t know what to do with.

Scott groaned, then came to a stop. He pointed to a large tree,

“Sit there,” he ordered, so Arthur did because he didn’t want to upset his brother. He stared at Scott, and Scott looked away.

“I’ll go hunting now. Stay there.”

Arthur trembled and clenched his fists. He wanted to cry. He knew what that meant, deep down, he _knew_.

“Can I have some water, please?” he asked politely, and his brother rolled his eyes, and seemed to think about it for a minute before handing Arthur his water. Arthur drank as much as he could, then handed the bottle back to his brother. “Thank you,” he said, “Will you take long?”

“Stay here,” his brother said again, then walked away. He stopped for a second, his head seeming to think about looking back, but giving up, and he kept on walking. Arthur listened for his footsteps until they disappeared among the other sounds of the forest, and then he listened some more.

Arthur waited and waited. He wanted to believe his brother would come back for him once he was done hunting, but the sun started to set and Arthur started to get cold. As he trembled with fear and hunger, he wondered what was it he had done to his family so they would punish him that way. Because surely it was some sort of punishment, wasn’t it? He wondered… Had he said too much in one quarrel or other with his siblings? Had he misbehaved too badly in front of his parents, had they caught him doing something they told him not to? But as all punishment went, it had to end at some point, and his family would show up, and take him home, and feed him something warm and good. Wouldn’t they? Even if Arthur had been bad, even if he had misbehaved, broke something or acted weird, they would still come back for him… right?

Then it was dark. Arthur was scared of the dark, of the sounds of the night. He hugged himself and shaking with cold tried to sleep, but to no avail. He wished and wished for at least some light, and suddenly he saw one. He gasped, thinking he had created it somehow, but it was moving between the trees and branches, and he stood up.

“Scott?!” he called, hope dripping out of that word, and the light stopped. “Scott! I’m here!” he called again, and the light started to move again, towards him. Arthur smiled to himself and then his smile was gone when he noticed the light was being held too close to the ground to be Scott holding it. And then an unfamiliar face carrying a torch appeared in front of him. It was another boy, around his age, and he tilted his head slightly to the side.

“Did your family abandoned you?” he asked.

Arthur gasped, then shook his head.

“Did you get lost?”

Arthur shook his head again.

“No, my brother went hunting, and he said I should wait here, but he’ll be back soon…”

The other boy scoffed.

“Yeah, no, they abandoned you, alright. My dad said something like that too and he never came back…”

“N-no, Scott is different, he’s coming to get me…” Arthur said with a pout, intertwining his own fingers together. He was scared, he was scared Scott wouldn’t come back, because Scott never got around to teaching him how to hunt, and he knew he wouldn’t be able to find food for himself. He didn’t like the idea of hurting rabbits, and he was too small to hunt bigger animals, and he didn’t know which berries he could eat and which he could not. “He _needs_ to come get me…” Arthur added.

The other boy sighed.

“Listen,” he said, “your brother wont come back for you and that’s okay, because my dad left me too and I’m okay. Adults leave kids in this forest all the time… I know how to make fire and I know how to find fruits and nuts… if you come with me you’ll be okay too.”

The boy offered Arthur his hand and Arthur hesitated for a long while. He didn’t want to be alone with that twisty feeling in his chest, but he also didn’t want to leave that place in case Scott was to return.

“... Can we stay the night here?” he asked.

The boy seemed to think for a bit, then nodded, and sat next to Arthur, “Okay, we can sleep here and tomorrow we can find a way to leave… if we get to town I’m sure we’ll be okay.” he said. Arthur didn’t like the fact that he sounded like he was lost, but he thought it’d be more polite not to point that out. The boy continued, “My name is Alfred! And what’s your name?”

“Arthur,” Arthur said.

“Nice to meet you, Artie! I’m sure we’re gonna be good friends!”

Arthur nodded, and hugged himself. He barely managed to nap that night, hoping with all the strength he had in his body for Scott to show up and apologize and take him home. But it didn’t happen, of course it did not happen. When he saw the first hints of sunlight between the trunks there was a setting anger inside him, because he hated to admit that his brother had in fact abandoned him. He wanted to cry, but he refused to.

When Alfred woke up and offered him some berries, he took them and ate them slowly, then got up and sighed.

“Let’s go,” he said.

And he didn’t look back, as much as he wanted to.

After that, they walked and they walked and they walked some more, but the town never seemed to get closer. Arthur had the recurring feeling they were passing the same trees here and there, and the certain feeling that Alfred had no idea where they were going.

“If we keep walking, we’ll get to town sometime…” he said, and that did make sense, so Arthur kept on following him.

During the couple days they walked, they did become good friends. Arthur learned that Alfred was eleven years old, and told him he was fourteen.

“Oh, you look younger…” Alfred commented.

Arthur rolled his eyes,

“Well, I used to always be sick when I was younger… brother used to say he was surprised I didn’t die back then… and since I’m like this, I can’t help much around…”

“Maybe that’s why they abandoned you,” Alfred nodded in response, and Arthur clenched his fists in anger. Yes, he knew that. And he hated it. He hated being so small and useless and hated how much his family always made sure to tell him that. He wished there was something special about him, something strong and great that would show them just how worthy he was…

Eventually in all their walking and berry hunting they found a river. First they only heard it, but they ran towards it and when they finally saw the clear water running, moved by thirst, Arthur jumped into the water and brought Alfred with him, holding his hand and making him blush. And when Arthur saw that Alfred was blushing, he blushed too, and looked away. They splashed water in each other’s faces, laughing all the way, and Alfred even managed to grab a couple fishes for them. Before the sun could even begin to set, Arthur asked for Alfred to make some fire, which he gladly did.

“I don’t want to get sick,” Arthur informed as he sat really close to the flames, hugging his small frame and watching the dancing warmth. As Alfred cooked the fish, Arthur stared at the yellows and oranges and reds as they moved, waving and struggling and reaching up. For a second he wanted to touch it, but he knew it’d hurt him.

“You like fire?” Alfred asked with a small smile.

Arthur nodded,

“It’s powerful,” he said. He moved his hand on top of the flames, far enough not to burn himself, but close enough to feel the heat. He wished he was like fire; powerful and strong. But he was not, so he sat close to it and then moved closer to Alfred, and ate his fish as he gladly listened to Alfred talking about bears and stars. As the night grew silent, Arthur rested his head against Alfred’s shoulder, and he felt it when Alfred held his breath. For some reason that was heartwarming, and Arthur snuggled close to him. He fell asleep with a smile on his lips, for Alfred had passed a arm around him, and was holding him close.

The next morning, going up the river a little bit, Alfred found a small path.

“Let’s follow it, we may find town!” Alfred said.

Arthur had a feeling they should follow the river as it went down, because of something Scott told him once, but Alfred had been providing them with food and fire, and he was warm and full of life, like a little sun, and he made Arthur feel hot and happy and safe and a little bit anxious (but a good anxious), so he thought it’d be wiser to follow Alfred instead. If anything, they could just follow the path back after all.

A few minutes into walking down the twisty little path, they finally reached a cabin.

Arthur tugged Alfred’s shirt when he saw it.

It was made out of bright, happy colors, like pink and blue and green, and not only that: it looked like a giant, delicious gingerbread house. It looked like it had white icing on the roof with lots of sprinkles, and colorful icing on the walls, and candy on the windows, and a delicious, inviting chocolate door adorned with hundreds of candy canes and lollipops. Arthur was drooling just looking at it, and so let go of Alfred’s shirt and ran towards the house, Alfred’s footsteps following him close.

However, as soon as he crossed the little gate in front of the house, and before he could even reach for a piece of candy, everything faded out and gave place to something else. Suddenly the gingerbread house became a rotting wood cabin, with windows falling apart and bushes growing on the walls. There was a little chimney, and dark smoke coming out of it.

Arthur stepped back, scared, and hit his back against Alfred.

“What is that?” he said, turning to grab Alfred and get away from there, to protect Alfred like Alfred had been protecting him, but Alfred didn’t move.

He turned his head slightly to the side instead,

“It’s my home,” he said calmly, “don’t you like it?”

There was a little, mischievous smile on his face as he said it, his blue eyes sparkling with something Arthur had never seen before.

The cabin door creaked open, and a woman wearing only blacks came out of it.

“Al, I was starting to get worried about you!” the woman said.

“Sorry, mom, I couldn’t find anything at first, but then I found Arthur,” Alfred said. He sounded proud.

“Huh,” the woman said, looking Arthur up and down. He wanted to run away, but he could not. His feet would not move. “We can’t eat _that_ ,” the woman gestured at Arthur, and he felt a little bit offended by the way she said it.

“I was thinking…” Alfred started, but the woman shushed him.

“We can’t _keep_ him, Alfred. We need things to eat and not another mouth to feed. I’m sure I can get some coins out of him, in town…”

Alfred sighed and Arthur turned his big, scared eyes to him.

“Sorry, Artie,” he said, and he sounded like he meant it. But then again, he had lied all the way there, hadn’t him? “It’s not personal, I really like you, but…” he shrugged, “There’s barely any food, and mom can’t get a job or anything at town because, you know… they sent her away because she’s a witch. But she’s nice, she only kills people in their sleep so they won’t feel any pain.”

Arthur wanted to scream. He couldn’t believe what was happening, and he couldn’t help staring at Alfred in shock and confusion. It was the same boy who had helped him, and fed him, and been there for him, and yet there was something different about him. Arthur wondered if it had always been there, that smile in the corner of his lips, the way his eyes sparkled, the ulterior motive in everything he said… Arthur wondered if those things had always been there and he had just refused to see it, the same way he had refused to see Scott was going to abandon him when he called Arthur to go hunting with him.

Arthur wondered if there had been, in any moment, something he could have done to avoid being where he was at that very moment. There definitely were, and he hadn’t seen them, or had ignored them, and now he was _angry_ , so _angry_ at himself for it. Anger was bubbling inside him, wanting to come out somehow, explode, _destroy_.

But it was just anger.

And alone it wouldn’t do anything.

Arthur had to be the one to do something with it. He didn’t want to, because he was scared of it. It was like touching the fire. He wanted to, it called for him, the power, the strength, but he knew it would burn, and he didn’t want to feel the pain.

But he was tired of ignoring it, and being hurt in other ways.

So he took a deep breath, and stared at the witch.

“Wait,” he said, “if you keep me, and feed me, I can work for you, and do things for you, and… and I can also show you where my family lives, and you can take them, and do whatever you want with them.”

“Huh,” the witch said, her eyes slightly wide, and a thin, large smile on her lips.

“Please, mom!” Alfred said, holding Arthur’s hand, entwining their fingers, “Please! I want Artie to stay! I l really like him!”

Arthur held tight to Alfred’s hand, as tight as he could, and Alfred held back. He believed Alfred, but just in the right amount. That hurt a little, because he really _liked_ Alfred and wanted to trust him completely, but that would have to do for the time being. He hoped that would change, and soon.

The witch sighed.

“I like that,” she smiled, “you have the wicked potential necessary to live with us. Very well, Arthur. Welcome home.” she gestured towards the cabin, and Arthur smiled back at her.

He had touched his anger, and it didn’t hurt as much as he thought it would. So he was going to embrace it, and live it, and he would survive, and nobody would ever hurt him again.

Holding Alfred’s hand, he walked into his new home.


End file.
